


As we dive into the end

by MissMona



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, can you believe that, can you tell i havent actually finished skyrim yet, i... dont know how skyrim actually ends, in which a bard isnt paid for this but you know hes trying anyway, prankt, this game is years old and i never finished it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMona/pseuds/MissMona
Summary: The dragonborn, a Khajiit named Dar'azi The Cunning, doesn't come home, and her family is left to figure things out.





	As we dive into the end

 The Scene we see, at the end of the world, is not what you would think. We do not see the hero at the height of her power. We do not see the Dragon, Alduin, sweeping the sky and blotting out the sun. We do not see these moments of glory and bloodshed. We do not see the pinnacle of the story. We do, however, watch the rending of the world as this part of the story comes to a head, all the way from home.

 Aela the Huntress, Lydia the Whiterun Housecarl, and the son and daughter of the Dragonborn Herself, sit and wait for what may either be the End, or the Beginning. Sitting on top of the roof of Lakeview Manor- the homestead that Aela’s Khajiit wife built with her own two hands in a simple few days- watching the distant Throat Of The World as the sky itself bent and warped to the call of the Thu’um.

 Shout after Shout, some Aela recognizes from the Dragonborn’s showing off to her kids down at the lake, some that seem new, and one in particular that sends shivers down her back. Every Word Of Power makes the sky recoil in pain like a wounded animal. Despite the obvious danger that comes with the sky doing this, at least it’s a pretty view for the apocalypse.

\-------------------------------------------------

 

 The last time Dar’azi the Cunning’s family had seen her, she had said she was about to answer the summons from the Greybeards.

 “You mean the summons you got when you first killed a dragon, months before you met me?” Aela jokes half heartedly as she realizes  _ just  _ how distracted her Khajiit wife has been with the needs of Ulfric Stormcloak and the different Holds.

 “One could… um, say that. Yes…” If it weren’t for the fur, Aela would have probably seen a blush “I figured I’ve let the ol’ farts wait long enough”

 Lydia pipes in with a witty joke about being “fashionably late” before Dar’azi says her goodbyes.

 “I promise I’ll come back in one piece.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

 Those were her last words to her family before taking on the end itself. A promise that seems more than a little surreptitious, now that Aela can see exactly what that means. “One piece” might be asking a little much of destiny.

 A calm hand folds over Aela’s shaking fingers, and she realizes her knuckles have gone white. She looks down and sees Lydia’s kind and reassuring face, and the stress melts a little bit. Lydia has fought by Dar’azi’s side and brought back plenty stories of how the dragonborn had climbed on top of an ancient dragons head and put the pommel of her sword through its eye. Of course Lydia has that kind of confidence in her Thane, why shouldn’t she? Dar’azi is certainly capable… so why can’t Aela shake this feeling that something was wrong?

 “I wonder if mamma will be home more often after this…” Lucia pipes up. The gravity of those words hits Aela like a runaway wagon. Both of Dar’azi’s kids- Lucia and Blaise- are orphans. Both had lost their mothers, and the dragonborn brought them in out of the pure kindness of her heart. If something happens to her on that mountain, these kids might never recover…

 Aela feels like she wants to throw up when the sky rends once more in a way that looks shockingly like buckling metal. She isn’t sure how much more of this she can take without going full beast and sprinting up the mountain to her wife’s side. But she can’t, this isn’t her destiny. The dragonborn isn’t meant to have help, especially not someone she cares about enough to put herself in danger for. That kindness of hers is going to be her downfall.

 Blaise breaks the silence between the Shouts, “I wonder if she even thinks about us when she’s out there…”

 Lydia, more than a little shocked by this, scolds Blaise for his brash comment, “Why would you think you’re not at the front of her mind?”

 “If she cared, wouldn’t she be home more often instead of making us worry that she won’t ever come back?! She  _ knows  _ me and Lucy don’t have moms because of them leaving and not coming back, so why would she keep us worrying like this?” Unfortunately, Blaise had a point, and it was absolutely heartbreaking.

 Aela really tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but Blaise scooted off the roof and went to sit on the chair on the balcony away from Lydia. It was enough to make her shoulders shake out a little sob before immediately attempting to regain composure. What could Dar’azi be possibly thinking, taking in kids  _ knowing she’s the Dragonborn of Legend,  _ **_knowing how dangerous her job is!_ **

 This would take some talking if-...  _ once  _ she come home. Positive thinking. Don’t think about how damaged these kids will-  **might** be  _ if  _ she doesn’t come home (which she  **_will_ ** ). Damn it, now there’s tears.

 Another one of that Shout… where did that one come from? It feels so angry, so… hurt. Like it was made out of the collective frustration and torment and sheer  _ pain  _ of every nord warrior in history.

 

**_JOOR… ZAH FRUL!_ **

 

 And the sky bends out of shape, and a pained roar is echoed, and what Aela and Lydia assume to be a valiant fight ensues. It’s a loop, of course it is, Dar’azi adores patterns and predictability. But she likes risk more, and so she’s willing to sacrifice one for the other. Adventure has her heart, and it tugs on Aela’s. Dar’azi is practically  _ made  _ of the spirit of the hunt, the excitement of a clean shot, and the satisfaction of a job well done. 

 Gods, she’s in deep and missing her wife so badly. She wants that clarification that everything will be okay. She wants to be held tight by  _ her wife  _ and assured and kept safe. Aela is certain that the apocalypse wouldn’t dare touch her in the arms of her wife. Death would have to take her honorless from behind, lest there be an unfair fight.

 She doesn’t even realize shes loudly sobbing until Lucia’s pet fox licks her cheek

 The fox goes from in Aelas face to under Lucias protective arms again in the last few seconds before a final, somehow strained and vaguely upset Shout. That same strange angry Shout…

 And suddenly, the sky itself has had enough. The clouds, space, and it seems every God in charge of it has let go of their grip and dropped the fragile scenery. The sky, it seemed, had completely shattered. The sound of millions of thunder pounds going off at the same time seemed to mute the world.

 A pin could drop in Windhelm and Aela would probably have heard it. The only sound in the world was her own blood pumping through her veins. It almost felt unreal, as though  _ she  _ and  _ all the world  _ weren’t real.

 It all snaps back into place as the silent blanket over Tamriel parted to make way for the unmistakable sound of a deafening pained roar stampeding down the mountain and through the hills, making its way to Aela. It felt as though Dar’azi (and quite possibly, The Divines Themselves) sent that sound to her family specifically because she knew Aela would recognize the sound, clear as day,

 

 As a deathcry.

 

 The Deathcry of Alduin. 

 

 The End of the Fight.

 

 And her Wife was Coming Home.

 

 Aela almost turned into a werewolf right there from the sheer excitement.  _ Her WIFE won! She did it! The dragon is dead, the world is still here, and her WIFE is ALIVE AND WELL! _

 She hopped up and grabbed Lydia and Lucia one-hand-each and spun the two around, hooting and hollering with this emotion filling her chest. It’s called  _ relief  _ and oh  _ how she missed it!  _ Blaise, against his teenage angst, seemed genuinely happy as well. Aela hopped off the roof effortlessly and grabbed Blaise up into a quick dance, let go, hopped back  _ on  _ the roof, and lifted Lucia into a dance as well.

 Today is such an immortal,  _ joyous _ day! Her wife killed the dragon, saved the world, and  _ is still alive despite it! _ If the dragon is dead, she must be alive! She  _ must be! _

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

 The weeks that followed definitely didn’t act like it, however. 3 weeks after the Day Of Alduin’s Demise, word had gotten around. Many, many people had been by from all over Skyrim bringing gifts to the Dragonborn only to find out that, no, she hadn’t come home yet. Yes, that is very strange. No, we don’t know where she is. You’re free to leave your gift here and she’ll get it when she comes back!

 Toys for the kids, weapons for Aela and Lydia, dragon parts from all over the province of people trying to prove themselves worthy to train under Dar’azi, Jarls looking to give thanks, and so many more, all coming to find out that their Hero hadn’t been heard from since her final Shout.

 It seemed as though life went in slow-motion for those weeks after, as Aela began losing hope in her wife. The kids seemed so empty, and even Lydia was running out of excuses for her beloved Thane. None of them even wanted to really get out of bed for anything. Aela spent her nights fighting the monsters of her mind from convincing her that Dar’azi had, in fact, died on that mountain. Nothing felt right, and she didn’t even feel like eating.

 The trophies in the back room seemed like such horrid things. An ill testament to her wife’s travels, as though her killing of creatures was  _ all  _ she did, which simply wasn’t true. Lydia didn’t let on about it, but she was never a great keeper of secrets, and had been spending a lot of time in the cellar- presumably praying to all 9 divine statues for her safety, or just drinking all of the ale. As much as Aela would love to join her, she would much rather just stay in bed and cry.

 The kids went about their days, half heartedly playing hide and seek with the hired bard. He was, believe it or not, the one doing his best to pull everyone back on their feet. Llewellyn the Nightingale, the bard hired by Dar’azi (probably to fill up a spare bed), seemed to feel genuine guilt for the family as they leaned into mourning the Dragonborn and did his best to cook food for everyone in the morning and afternoon.

 Baking fat-filled fruit-stuffed sweet pastries that the children couldn’t possibly turn down (the less they ate, the more they needed per bite. It was very sweet of him), and cooking light pastas for Aela and Lydia to coax them to at least get up and walk around for a bit was just enough to keep the family going for the months that followed.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

 The very last time Dar’azi had been seen was the 13th of Frostfall

 Now, in the height of First Seed, she still hasn’t been heard from. The family had been recovering, slowly, but the damage was done. Dar’azi The Cunning was not coming home.

 Her last words were sour in Aela’s mind. Had that final shout been too powerful? Had she been ripped apart by her own words? Did the dragon take her down with him? Was she injured and lost, or did she die on the mountain? Skyrim had fallen silent in mourning as no one knew what to do when their heros died. You always hear of them millenia later, but the feeling of having lost one so close to your time is something no one very well thinks about.

 Authors and students at the College Of Winterhold had been by many times through the winter for Aela and Lydia’s knowledge of Dar’azi’s childhood and upbringing, what  _ makes  _ a dragonborn, what she was like in life, and many more  _ very intrusive  _ details that she, herself, wouldn’t have told.

 News from the fight with Alduin happened that the Blades had disbanded. Figures, Aela thought, that this group that sent her wife to her death would feel that sort of guilt. She wasn’t  _ just _ Aela’s wife, she was a mother to two orphan children, Thane Of The Holds, The Savior of Tamriel, The Dragonborn of Legend, and so, so much more. It frustrated her that others seemed incapable of understanding that.

 Then again, none of them knew her quite like she did.

\-------------------------------------------------

 

 The days went by, and slowly, Lucia and Blaise began playing outside once again. The world still felt a little  _ too  _ quiet without the family’s beloved Dar’azi at the end of the table telling jokes, down at the lake and showing off new Shouts, playing with bees in her apiary, but it was healing. It was better than it had been. 

 Aela had managed to bring herself out of mourning and be the mother these kids so desperately needed. The four of them (and the bard, who seemed to like the change in pace) all participated in the proper mourning practice that Nords share. Aela and Lydia wove flowers into each others and the kids’ hair (and, once again, the bard), and would keep the flowers in their hair until they wilted, marking the end of mourning.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

 “...Hello!” a familiar voice purred in the distance.

 The flowers may have begun wilting, but the sound of that Khajiit opened up every hasty suture and tore open the months of grief. Lucia and Blaise screamed and hopped up to run towards the Dragonborn on the hill as she approached with caution. Lydia seemed equally excited, but didn’t want the kids tackling Dar’azi, and so chased after them to make them slow down.

 Aela, however, stayed put. Slack-jawed and silently crying. She hadn’t taken off her wedding band in these long months, and suddenly it felt like a brick. The sheer wave of emotion pouring over her as she sat in the warm summer sun staring at her long-lost love felt like so much. The world seemed to go from the quiet graveyard it had been for this time to the bustling world teeming with life and joy that it had once been. It was as though color had returned to the very blossoms that lined her braids. Her chest felt like a heavy block of sculpture clay and her head felt like it had gone to live in the clouds as her wife gave her a teary smile.

 Aela found the strength to force her knees to keep form as she bolted towards her beautiful wife. Dar’azi’s face seemed to flash in fear as she realized that she was about to be hugged  _ very hard _ as she attempted to put her hand out in front of her to cover impact. The Huntress was a little confused by the gesture as she slowed down in front of her wife’s hand and took a real look at her condition.

 The Dragonborn was covered in casts and bandages, and sported a new scar across her front that ripped the front of her shirt. She carried a clunky bag that looked to be holding her ebony armor set- now charred black and sporting a nasty hip-to-shoulder gash where her shirt also held that wound. It seemed she had been healing slowly, but she wasn’t really in much condition to be travelling, even now.

 Despite it all, however, her wife’s beautiful golden eyes still shone and glittered with all the cheer and radiance in the world.

 “Can I go home now? I’m in… quite a bit of pain…” Dar’azi said with her ears falling down for dramatic effect as she slumped forward into her wife’s arms, “You won’t  _ believe _ how hectic that dragon fight was!”

 Dar’azi had told the story of how she had finally defeated Alduin, the but the shocking part was how badly she had been injured through the whole thing. She fought through the pain of that gash and kept going, but once the dragon was dead- for good this time- she had collapsed. She woke up periodically over the course of a couple months, only to immediately be put back out by the Greybeards in their desperate attempt to keep her alive and healing.

 “Remind me to give those old bastards a thank you card!” Lydia yelled triumphantly, “They seem like pretty nice guys, for a bunch of hermits who wouldn’t help you fight a dragon!”

 “Honestly, that was the least of my problems!” Dar’azi said, every word soaking into the life of the room and staining the very  _ walls _ with jovial atmosphere that would not, and  _ could not _ be taken from her again. “The ~’Blades’~ tried to make me kill their leader for no reason! It was quite a bit of garbage, and I was forced under bedrest for  _ ages!” _

 Aela, comfortably held under her wife’s loving arm for the story, finally felt completely safe and happy. For the first time in months, life had returned to Tamriel itself, and it’s hero had finally,  _ finally,  _ come home.  _ Her wife had finally come home, and for good. And it was so, so good. _

 By dusk that evening, the flowers had wilted. And all was well again.

 Everyone was happy, the bard played his songs, and Dar’azi was comfortable cuddling with Aela.

 “I missed you so much…” the Khajiit admitted, her ears folded down, “It was all I could think about the whole time.”

 Aela touched Dar’azi’s face and planted a kiss on the Dragonborns nose, “It’s okay now, we’re gonna be okay” the Huntress said in her most calming tone as Dar’azi’s shoulders began to shake and she hid her face in Aela’s neck.

 “But.. but is it okay? Don’t think I don’t know what those flowers were for, you all thought I was dead for that whole time… how can I expect to forgive myself for this?” Dar’azi said through broken sobs as the music kept playing at its best volume. “How can I expect  _ you _ to forgive me for this?”

 “You can’t, I suppose, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.” Aela said with a gentle conviction, pulling the Khajiit up to face her, “I promise.”

 Dar’azi gave her a weak smile as tears continued to stain her shirt, and it was fine.

 

It was all going to be fine.

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fanfic! I just.... love my khajiit so much,,


End file.
